A Lesson in Pain
by Holly Marsh
Summary: An innocent train journey turns into a living nightmare for an old friend.


A Lesson in Pain  
  
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It was dark and raining when the train pulled into the small village station. A blonde young woman with wide-apart brown eyes heaved her suitcase off the ground and took her small son by the hand.  
  
"Come on, Timmy," she urged, pulling him up onto the train.  
  
They walked along the corridor looking for an empty compartment, but there didn't seem to be any. So the woman dragged her suitcase into the last compartment and smiled shyly at the man sitting inside.  
  
"Excuse me - do you mind if we join you? All the other compartments seem to be full ..."  
  
He turned to face her, and she was surprised to notice that the face beneath the grey-flecked hair was quite young, if slightly lined and tired- looking.  
  
"Of course," he said in a weary voice, and he rose to lift her case onto the rack.  
  
The young woman studied him as he did so, for his appearance was quite unusual to an ordinary young woman like her. Not only was he wearing a strange kind of long cloak, but it was patched and stitched in several places. Beside his seat stood an old, battered suitcase tied together with pieces of rope, and a strange sort of stick was poking out of his belt. She lifted her son onto a seat.  
  
"Thank you, - Professor," she muttered gratefully, spotting the name Professor R. J. Lupin on the side of his case and gazing at him in amazement. So this strange young man was a professor?  
  
"I'm Cynthia Martin," she introduced herself. "And this is my son Timothy."  
  
"Remus Lupin." He smiled, spotting the way Timothy stared as he sat down again.  
  
"Pleased to meet you."  
  
"We've been to see Nanny," Timothy declared suddenly, as though disclosing a piece of vital information.  
  
"Ah," said Remus Lupin. "And I'll bet she was pleased to see you."  
  
He smiled kindly at the child.  
  
"She gave me a pressie - here." He proudly held out a story book. Remus took it.  
  
"The Wonderful World of Witches and Warlocks," he read with a trace of amusement.  
  
"Timmy loves magic stories," the boy's mother explained.  
  
"I see."  
  
"They're exciting! All about nasty vampires and horrible werewolves and demons. Of course, I know they're not real," Timmy explained defensively.  
  
"Really? How do you know that?" Remus asked seriously.  
  
Timmy's young brow furrowed. "They're just stories. Everyone knows there's no such thing as magic ..."  
  
"Perhaps 'everyone' is wrong," Remus said mysteriously, leaning closer to the boy. "Perhaps magic is just not what you expect it to be - no pulling rabbits out of hats or turning silk handkerchiefs into a bunch of flowers. Perhaps real magic is much more mysterious than that, much darker ..."  
  
"Are you going to tell me a story, P-er-fesser?" Timmy asked eagerly.  
  
Mrs. Martin looked anxious. "Timmy, I'm sure the Professor doesn't want to spend the journey telling stories ..."  
  
"Oh please," Timothy begged, "I love ghosty stories."  
  
After a brief glance at Timmy's mother, who gave a resigned sigh, Remus Lupin leaned back in his seat. Timmy scrambled onto his mother's lap and sat there, looking across expectantly at Remus, who began slowly ...  
  
"Once upon a time there was a little boy who was not so very much younger than you. He lived with his parents in a house in a wood, and there he was very happy. But, one day, the little boy's father took him out hiking on the moors with his uncle. It grew dark, and the adults lit a fire to keep them warm. A full moon was shining and the moors were unusually bright for such a late hour. The little boy lay tucked up in the tent ..."  
  
Timmy snuggled up closer to his mother, who looked almost as enthralled as her son by the story their fellow traveller was unfolding. He told them how the two men heard a howl in the night. He described their terror as they heard the blood-curdling sounds of a wild beast, a monster, attacking a helpless animal fighting in the dark, a pony's final whinny before silence fell ... and then another long, lonely howl. He described how the two men began packing all their things together, not caring what a mess they made, dousing the fire in the hopes that the monster would not be able to find them without it - and then the terrible moment when they heard the ripping of canvas, when the little boy's father dashed into the tent and found a huge wolf-like creature bending over his son ...  
  
"Did the wolf kill them?" Timmy asked in a whisper.  
  
"No," Remus assured him. "He didn't kill them. The little boy's father and uncle were able to chase him away. But the little boy was wounded. He had been bitten ... and in front of their very eyes he turned into a smaller version of the monster they had just chased away. From that day on, at every full moon, he transformed into a werewolf."  
  
Remus Lupin let the story end there. His audience gaped at him.  
  
"What happened later? Did he ever get cured?" Timmy asked excitedly.  
  
"No," said Remus. "There was no cure. He has remained a werewolf to this very day."  
  
"What's his name?"  
  
"Timmy," the boy's mother interrupted. "Of course he has no name. He doesn't exist. It's just a story."  
  
She looked across at Remus.  
  
"Though I must admit, Professor, that you do make it sound very convincing. You should write books." She smiled.  
  
Remus smiled back, though a shadow passed across his face.  
  
Timmy sat for a moment, then he got up and pulled a toy aeroplane out of a bag and began 'flying' it around the compartment. His mother leaned back in her seat, and occasionally stole rather anxious glances at Remus Lupin, who had apparently turned his whole attention to the night outside, and the waxing moon that appeared from behind a cloud.  
  
They sat in silence for a long time while the train rattled on. Cynthia Martin began unwrapping sandwiches for herself and Timmy. It was when she was offering one to Remus Lupin that there was a sudden creak and a jolt, then a crash, and the force of inertia threw Timmy right across the compartment. Remus grabbed at the boy before he hit the window, the lights flickered and went out, a few sparks issued from somewhere. The train had come to a dangerously abrupt halt, and cries of pain echoed along the corridor. Remus, still clutching the now crying Timothy to himself, pulled something out from under his cloak, muttered something under his breath and a pale green light filled the compartment.  
  
"Mummy!" Timmy cried.  
  
"Mrs. Martin?" Remus groped around in the semi-dark, shining his light into all the corners. He found the young woman in one of them, opposite her seat.  
  
"Are you all right?"  
  
"I think so," she croaked, standing up on shaky legs and taking Timmy from his arms. "What happened?"  
  
"I'm not sure," Remus said. "Wait here."  
  
He stepped out into the corridor, taking his light with him. Cynthia Martin returned to her seat with Timmy, and got him to quiet down. She listened intently for a sound from the corridor, and did not have long to wait. The sound of people cursing and crying with shock and pain had died down a little, but suddenly a piercing scream was heard echoing through the train. Cynthia wasn't sure, but she imagined that she had seen a flash of green light shimmering through the curtains of the compartment door. She heard soft running steps, and in an instant, Remus Lupin had pushed the door open and stood for a second, looking breathless and dishevelled. He brushed his hair out of his eyes and came over to her, unceremoniously grabbing her by the arm.  
  
"Come," he said, his voice barely more than a hoarse whisper. "We've got to get you out of here!"  
  
"Why?" asked Cynthia, still clutching Timmy and almost running to keep up with his long strides as he led her out into the corridor and towards the back of the train, away from the increased screams and flashes of light at the front.  
  
"There's no time to explain. Come on."  
  
He half dragged her along faster. Suddenly he froze. Mrs. Martin stared ahead. It was hard to see in the dim light shed by that - stick he was holding out, but she thought she could make out a figure coming along the corridor towards them. It looked like it might be a man dressed in some kind of black hooded cloak.  
  
Remus pulled open a compartment door.  
  
"In here."  
  
He pushed her and Timothy through and waved the thing in his hand at the window. In a flash, the glass was gone. Remus climbed outside and held up his hands.  
  
"Give me Timmy," he urged. "Quickly."  
  
Cynthia Martin did as he said, then climbed after him, not knowing quite why she was doing it. She could see more cloaked figures getting on at the back of the train. Remus Lupin caught her as she landed, then pushed them both back against the train and whispered urgently.  
  
"Stay right here. Wait until they've all got on, then take Timmy and run. Don't think you can hide from them - they can't see you, but they can feel your presence."  
  
Cynthia stared at him wide-eyed.  
  
"Who are they? And you ... what are you?"  
  
He shook his head. "I have to go. Hopefully I can get some more people off this train, before ..."  
  
He broke off as another flash of green sliced through the darkness and a scream was heard. He squeezed Cynthia's arm, then darted to the nearest door and swung himself back up onto the train. Cynthia stood with baited breath, watching the figures at the end of the train and holding Timmy tightly. She heard a muffled sound behind her and turned to find more people climbing out of windows. She made her way over to them.  
  
"What's going on?" someone asked in a whisper.  
  
An old woman was standing sobbing. Cynthia went up to her and patted her arm. The woman sobbed even harder.  
  
"What happened?" a young man stepped up and asked.  
  
"Oh, my boy - my poor boy," the woman sobbed. Another man who appeared to have come out of the same compartment explained in a shaky voice,  
  
"This thing, this cloaked figure, walked in and bent over her son and ... I can't describe what it did, but it's like ... like he's alive, but he's not. When the thing had gone, the lad wasn't able to talk. He didn't seem able to listen either. He just - sat there. I can't explain it."  
  
Cynthia looked around her, terrified. A lot of people were looking shaken and scared.  
  
"Did you see a young man?" she asked the one who had spoken. "In a long patched cloak, with some kind of stick?"  
  
"I did," said an old man behind her. "He helped me off the train. Told me to look for a young woman with a small boy - that'd be you, I expect. He said you'd know what to do."  
  
Cynthia nodded, and everyone gathered around her.  
  
"Wait until those things are all on the train," she said, "then get out of here as fast as you can. Whatever you do, don't let them get near you. He said they could somehow sense you, even if you're hiding."  
  
In the normal way, this would have caused a lot of derisive comment, but this group of people had seen too much that was unnatural tonight to wonder at anything.  
  
Cynthia turned to the first man who had spoken and pushed Timmy towards him.  
  
"Keep an eye on my son for me. I must go back and see ..."  
  
"Go back?!" someone exclaimed. "Are you mad? You don't want to be on that train, girl!"  
  
Cynthia ignored them and looked down at Timmy.  
  
"Stay with these people, Tim. Mummy's just going to look for the professor. I won't be a minute."  
  
"No!" Timmy clutched at her. "No, Mummy!"  
  
She was about to remove her coat from his fingers, when she suddenly heard a shout.  
  
"Expecto Patronum!" - surely that was Professor Lupin's voice. But what did the words mean?  
  
"Expecto Patronum!" It was his voice again, she was sure of it. More people came running.  
  
"What's going on?!" people called.  
  
"Those - things," the newcomers panted. "They came out into the corridor. This man held them off somehow so we could escape. I don't know what he did, but it slowed them down."  
  
This was it. Cynthia pushed Timmy aside as gently as she could and ran for the nearest door. She knew it was madness, she knew she should stay with Timmy, but she had to know what was going on ...  
  
Panting, she pulled herself up the steps and turned towards the sound of running footsteps. Professor Lupin was coming towards her. He stopped in his tracks when he saw her.  
  
"Remus ...," she found herself stammering.  
  
"What are you doing here?!" he shouted. "I told you to get out - go!"  
  
Two of the hooded figures were coming up from behind him in a sweeping movement.  
  
"Look out!" Cynthia shouted.  
  
He whirled around and brought the stick in his hand level to the floor. "Expecto Patronum!"  
  
Something white and whispy and cloud-like shot forward and chased the two figures back. Acting against all reason, intrigued by those monstrous apparitions, Cynthia came closer. More of the things came, and again Remus Lupin shouted his - spell? Again the creatures were driven back, but the whispy shape was paler. Three more came up.  
  
"Expecto Patronum!" His voice was growing hoarse, the cloud of white protection grew paler still, and Cynthia felt all the happiness draining out of her. Despair was enveloping her like a black cloud and she felt cold, colder than she ever had in her life. Remus Lupin was swaying on the spot, but still he kept repeating the spell, even when four, five, even six of those monsters came. Cynthia stumbled. She had to get to him, but she could barely move. And then one of the creatures was closing in on Remus, it had almost reached him, a withered-looking hand was extending ...  
  
"Stop!" a squeaky voice shouted. "Get back!"  
  
The hooded figures backed off, but still Cynthia felt cold.  
  
"Well, well, well," said a smaller figure, also cloaked and hooded so that she couldn't see his face, who now stepped through among the ranks of those things. "If it isn't Remus Lupin himself. How are you, Moony, my old friend?"  
  
"Wormtail," Lupin replied, propping himself up against the wall. "I might have known. This is just about your level, isn't it? Torturing innocent Muggles who can't defend themselves!"  
  
Cynthia blinked. What was that word he'd used? What did it mean?  
  
The man called Wormtail laughed.  
  
"And defending stupid weaklings who can't look after themselves is just about your level, Remus. And look where it's got you. I always said you care too much about others. You should leave people to fend for themselves once in a while. It makes life so much easier."  
  
"Like betraying old friends, Peter?" Remus hissed.  
  
Wormtail stepped up to him and gripped his face hard with - was that a hand? It looked like it was made of solid silver. Remus pressed his jaws together, but the pain was still evident in his face.  
  
"They could never have escaped my Master, even if I hadn't betrayed them. James was a fool to think he could outwit the Dark Lord."  
  
With a wrench that obviously cost most of his strength, Remus Lupin pushed Wormtail back.  
  
"Don't you dare speak about James like that! James would have given his life for you!"  
  
"Yes, well ..." Wormtail chuckled. "He did, in a way."  
  
Remus started angrily towards him, but Wormtail raised his silver hand, which was now holding a stick similar to the one Cynthia had seen the professor carrying. He stood like that, pointing it at Lupin for a moment. Then he grinned and pointed it at Cynthia instead.  
  
"Crucio!" he cried.  
  
In an instant, Cynthia felt a pain in every nerve of her body unlike anything she had ever experienced before. She screamed, she writhed - she was barely aware of Remus Lupin shouting "NO!" and turning on Wormtail, shouting and begging him to release her. Wormtail lowered his hand and the pain stopped. Cynthia found herself lying on the floor, cold and breathless.  
  
"I think you had better come with me, Remus," Wormtail said almost softly. "My Master will be so pleased to see you. Unless you'd rather I repeated this procedure." He paused. "Your wand, Moony ..."  
  
Remus Lupin stared at Wormtail, then his eyes met Cynthia's. He dropped the stick that was in his hand and made to step towards her, but at a sign from Wormtail two of the cloaked figures came forward and grabbed his arms. Cynthia watched in horror. The colour had drained completely from Lupin's face.  
  
"I'm ... sorry," she mouthed.  
  
His answer was the strangest she had ever heard. "Go back to the compartment. You'll find some chocolate in my case. Eat it. It'll make you feel better."  
  
Then the man called Wormtail turned to go, and the monstrous figures went with him, two of them dragging Remus Lupin between them.  
  
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Cynthia curled up on the floor and shivered. The creatures had gone, but she still felt cold, terribly cold. She lay there for a few minutes before she was able to summon up the willpower to get up and do as he had advised. She found the chocolate and ate it as he had instructed her to do. Warmth found its way back into her body, but still she was more miserable than she could ever remember having been.  
  
She was gazing absent-mindedly and somewhat confusedly at a photograph of four young men and a beautiful bride with long red hair - all moving and smiling - when suddenly Timmy's voice rang out right behind her, and he threw himself into her arms like a little whirlwind. Cynthia picked him up and also took the picture. A sad smile spread across her face. She recognised the man on the end - he looked ill and tired, but he was smiling and waving, his light brown hair falling into his eyes ...  
  
She shuddered to think what he was going through now. And she wondered who - or what - Remus Lupin really was. Would she ever find out? And how - how! - was she ever supposed to go back to living her old, ordinary life at home with Timmy and Mike - Mike. She wondered at her own thoughts. It seemed like worlds stood between them right now. She had never felt like this before. She and Mike were very close, but after tonight - would anything ever be the same again? Would she be able to forget what she had seen? If she was honest, did she even want to forget - all of it?  
  
She was still thinking these thoughts some time later. Timmy had long since fallen asleep, and the sounds of sobbing and wailing still filled the night as the people from outside the train had got back on when they had seen Wormtail and Professor Lupin leave with those wraith-like monsters. The strange moving picture was crumpled tightly in Cynthia's hand. She supposed she had better get moving. Find someone who had a mobile phone - Mike was right, she should have got herself one, but she hadn't seen the need - call home, get Mike to come and get her. Everything would be all right when Mike got here - wouldn't it?  
  
She heard slow, heavy footsteps outside in the corridor, and a man suddenly stood in the doorway. She looked up. And then she caught her breath.  
  
This was not one of the passengers. This man was on the picture clasped in her hand. True, his hair was longer, his face unshaven and his eyes deadened, but it was the same man. And as she realised that, she also felt that she had seen that sunken face before, though she couldn't remember where.  
  
The man wore long black robes that looked in a worse state than Remus Lupin's had. He surveyed the compartment and looked about to leave when he seemed to spot the case on the floor. Practically ignoring Cynthia, he strode over to it and turned it round so that the name on the side of it showed. The man stood and looked at her properly for the first time.  
  
"You were in here when the Dementors came?" he asked without introduction in a voice that sounded like he had lost the use of it.  
  
"De-dementors?" Cynthia stammered. Then, "is that - what they're called? Yes. I was in here."  
  
She looked up suddenly.  
  
"You're - like him, aren't you? You're not a - a -" What was that word they had used for people like her? "A Muggle."  
  
The stranger stared hard at her for a moment. "Yes," he said at last. "I'm a wizard."  
  
"So that's what he was. I wondered. I would never have believed it possible, if I hadn't seen - with my own eyes. If I hadn't felt ..." She broke off. "He was - kind. To all of us. He told Timmy a story, the sort he likes to hear. He seemed ... I'm sure he was ... a good man."  
  
"Was?" The stranger's already weak voice seemed to crack. "You're not saying - he's not ..."  
  
"I don't know. They took him away. Those - Dementors. And the man called Wormtail."  
  
"Wormtail?" It was more like a growl than human speech. "Damn, I knew we should have killed him there and then. But Harry said ..." He interrupted himself. "Do you know where they were going?"  
  
"The man called Wormtail said something about his Master. There was talk of a Dark Lord ..."  
  
"Voldemort."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"It doesn't matter - not to your kind." The man began pacing the floor.  
  
"It does now. After what I have seen tonight. I can never go back to not knowing. I can't forget ..."  
  
"You will," the man said bitterly. "By morning you won't remember a thing about what happened here. They'll probably see to it you won't even remember having been on this train, or seen Remus."  
  
"They?"  
  
"The Ministry. They'll be here soon. And I must be gone before they get here."  
  
"Oh no, you don't," said a sharp voice from the compartment door. They both turned around, stunned. They hadn't heard anyone approach. But there in the doorway stood a being who looked like nothing less than a spirit to Cynthia. There was a very unreal quality about her.  
  
She was quite small. The lines of her pale face were unusually smooth, almost as though they had been sculpted out of some glowing, cream coloured material - like ivory, only brighter. Her lips were as red as berries. She wore a large hood, but her dark hair was so long that strands of it fell forwards down the front of her black satin robes, which were tied around a narrow waistline with a silk cord. She held an ebony wand in her hand, and it was pointed straight at the stranger in front of her.  
  
"So - Sirius Black, here in England. Would you believe it?" she said, and Cynthia noticed that under the sharp edge was an extraordinarily melodic, soft voice. And - Sirius Black? Surely that name rang a bell. In the news, over a year and a half ago at least, she thought. Yes, the police had been looking for him. He'd escaped from prison. He was supposed to armed and dangerous. But he didn't look it right now. He stared helplessly at the woman now facing him.  
  
"Look, you don't understand," he began hastily.  
  
"Don't I? Fourteen years ago, you betrayed one of your best friends to the Enemy and killed another. I suppose you now consider the job done. Now that Remus Lupin is in Voldemort's clutches as well."  
  
"Please, we don't have time for this. We must be quick if Remus is to be saved ..."  
  
"Saved?" The woman gave a dry laugh. "By you? You, who handed James and Lily Potter to the Dark Lord?"  
  
Cynthia opened her hand and stared at the crumpled picture. Sirius Black's head turned and he saw what she was holding. He took it from her, gently, and stared down at it.  
  
"I can't deny that James's death was partly my doing. Through my stupidity, my error of judgement, my mistrust of the one person I should have known would never wish to cause James harm, any more than I would, I condemned my best friend to betrayal and death. But I didn't hand James and Lily over to Voldemort, I swear it. And I won't be taken peacefully back to Azkaban and leave Voldemort to kill the last friend I have left."  
  
The strange woman studied him. "I don't intend to give you much choice, Black. I have no intention of letting Remus die. But I will not let you walk free." She raised her wand arm higher, but on impulse Cynthia stepped in her way.  
  
"Wait!" she said. The strange woman and Sirius Black both stared at her in surprise.  
  
"I - I know I don't really know what all this is about, and I've seen things tonight I couldn't have imagined in my wildest dreams, but let me get this straight." She turned to the strange woman. "My name is Cynthia Martin. And you are ...?"  
  
"They call me Selina," she said after a pause. Then, a trifle hesitantly, "Selina Salazar."  
  
"And you believe that Mr. Black here betrayed someone years ago?"  
  
"The Potters." Selina Salazar nodded under her hood. "Lily and James."  
  
"James?" Cynthia drew a deep breath and turned to Sirius Black. "Mr. Black, what is your side of the story?"  
  
Black looked as though there was nothing he wanted to do less than waste time explaining, but he looked from Selina Salazar to Cynthia and on considering it seemed to decide that the only way they would get anywhere was if he told them his story, as quickly as possible.  
  
"I know it must have appeared to everyone as though I had betrayed James, but I didn't. He was betrayed by another of his friends - of our friends, actually."  
  
"And was that friend named Wormtail?"  
  
Sirius Black stared. "How do you know?"  
  
"He was here tonight. He was with the Dementors that took Professor Lupin away."  
  
"Wait," Selina Salazar interrupted. "Who is Wormtail?"  
  
"An old friend of ours from school. An unregistered Animagus, as a matter of fact. You would have heard of him under the name of Pettigrew," Black said.  
  
"Pettigrew?" Selina Salazar laughed suddenly - it was a laugh without humour. "Pettigrew's dead! You should know. You killed him, after all!"  
  
Cynthia watched them both anxiously. She knew that it was terribly important she should convince Miss Salazar to believe that this man Wormtail, or Pettigrew or whatever his name was, was the one who was guilty, not Black.  
  
"Look," she said, "I don't know if his name was Pettigrew, or if he was an Ani-whatever, but I do remember Professor Lupin calling him 'Peter', if that helps."  
  
Selina Salazar stared. She shot a suspicious glance at Black, but she lowered her wand.  
  
"If - if this is true, then ..."  
  
"It is true," Sirius Black insisted. "And if you don't hurry up and believe it, then Peter Pettigrew will soon have another life on his conscience. Personally, I'm sick and tired of letting my best friends die. I don't want to lose Remus like I did James."  
  
Selina Salazar studied his face for a long moment. Then, finally, she concealed her wand underneath her robes. "None of us wants to lose Remus," she said softly.  
  
Cynthia heaved a sigh of relief and turned to pick something up from the seat where Timmy was lying curled up, still fast asleep. She handed it to Black.  
  
"If - when you find him, give this back to Professor Lupin and - tell him I'll never forget what he did tonight."  
  
Black took the object from her.  
  
"Moony's wand," he muttered. Then he said, "goodbye, Mrs. Martin. When the people from the Ministry arrive, tell them you want to speak to Mr. Arthur Weasley. Have you got that?"  
  
"Arthur Weasley," Cynthia repeated.  
  
"Yes. Whatever the Ministry say, you must insist on talking to him. Tell him what happened here tonight."  
  
Cynthia nodded. Black gave her a curt nod, then turned to follow Selina Salazar, who was already halfway out of the door.  
  
"Mr. Black," Cynthia said, just as he was leaving.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Professor Lupin told my son a story earlier this evening. About a little boy who became a werewolf. I've been wondering ... Was that story true? Are there such things as - werewolves?"  
  
A sad smile spread across Black's face. "Yes," he said, "there are such things. But it's not true what they say about werewolves. They're not all bad."  
  
"I know." Cynthia smiled. "Good luck, Mr. Black. God speed."  
  
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Sirius Black, with Lupin's wand in hand, joined Selina Salazar outside.  
  
"Let's go," she said briskly. "Quickly, before the Ministry get here. We've wasted far too much time already."  
  
"Where do we start looking for them?" Black asked.  
  
At that moment, a large black raven flew up and settled on Selina Salazar's arm.  
  
"Rtarak will show us the way," said Miss Salazar.  
  
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Professor Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was sitting behind the huge desk in his circular office, occasionally touching his wand to the side of his forehead and placing the cloudy shapes of various thoughts and memories into a steaming bowl that stood before him. On a perch near the staircase at the back sat a bedraggled-looking bird with fiery red feathers. On the walls all around hung portraits of former headmasters and mistresses, most of them dozing and some snoring with their heads resting against the picture frames.  
  
Suddenly their slumber was interrupted as the door to the headmaster's office burst open and deputy headmistress Minerva McGonagall swept in. Dressed in a green tartan robe with her hair tied back in a tight bun, her face wore an unusually rattled expression as she stopped in the doorway - which was nothing compared to the look on the face of the boy who followed her in.  
  
He was fifteen, with untidy black hair and bright green eyes behind his glasses and a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. His name was Harry Potter, and he had faced many dangers for someone so young. But now he looked more worried than even Dumbledore had ever seen him.  
  
Behind this boy followed his two best friends, the tall and lanky red-head Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, bushy brown hair tied back into a rebellious ponytail.  
  
"What is it, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked McGonagall.  
  
"Potter has received a letter, Albus ..."  
  
She indicated the black-haired boy, who stepped forward, holding out a folded parchment.  
  
"To Mr. Harry Potter, Gryffindor Tower, Hogwarts," Dumbledore read. "From - Lord Voldemort."  
  
He looked up at Harry over the top of his half-moon spectacles.  
  
"Have you opened it?"  
  
"He opened it in the Great Hall," Professor McGonagall answered, closing the door and guiding Harry to a chair. "It gave everyone there quite a fright!" Her own face confirmed her words.  
  
"I closed it again as quickly as possible," Harry said.  
  
"But not quickly enough to stop everyone hearing him," Ron added.  
  
"Hearing who?" Dumbledore asked patiently, guessing the answer.  
  
"You-know-who," Hermione answered, then, on receiving a warning look from the headmaster, took a deep breath and corrected, "Voldemort. He was laughing. Of course, no one but Harry had heard him before, but we all knew it was him at once. The laugh sounded so ..."  
  
"Evil," Ron said grimly.  
  
Harry was nodding and his hand went to his forehead. "And then my scar started burning like someone was holding a hot iron to it."  
  
"Did you have time to read the letter before you closed it?"  
  
"No, sir."  
  
"I thought it best that Potter bring it straight to you," Professor McGonagall added.  
  
"Quite so," said Dumbledore. "Well, Harry, I'm afraid we will have to open it now. But we don't want anyone outside this room hearing it."  
  
He nodded to McGonagall, and she waved her wand at the door. "Sonorum absorbo."  
  
Then Dumbledore began to unfold the parchment. Immediately, an unnatural, high-pitched laugh filled the circular room and a searing pain burned in Harry's scar; he pressed his fist against it and watched as the parchment flew into the air and hung there, continuing to unfold itself. The laughter died away, and the parchment dissolved. For a moment, they all stared blankly at the spot where it had been. The pain subsided, and Harry lowered his hand. Then glittering gold letters began to form in mid-air.  
  
"Harry Potter,  
  
Many times before now you have escaped me, and yet the Fates seem to be determined to lead you back into my path.  
  
I have something - or someone - here that I think you will want returned."  
  
There was a pause in which Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at one another. They all looked equally pale, and Harry guessed that they were probably thinking of the same person as he was.  
  
"No", he thought anxiously, "no, not Sirius, please ..."  
  
The gold letters continued.  
  
"I will show you who it is, and leave you to decide whether you will come to me and offer your life in exchange for his ..."  
  
Harry gripped the arms of the chair. The last gold letters shimmered for a moment, then rearranged into a picture frame, and slowly a moving picture began to take shape, until at last it looked as real as the room around them.  
  
A hooded figure with a silver hand stood facing them inside the frame.  
  
"I am ready," said the voice of Lord Voldemort, echoing all around them. "Bring him in."  
  
"Yes, Master." The voice under the hood was squeaky and nervous.  
  
Ron frowned as he recognised it to be Wormtail, who for twelve years had pretended to be his pet rat, Scabbers.  
  
Wormtail moved to a door at the far side of the room and called to someone outside. The picture continued to show him as he returned to the middle of the room. The door was hidden from view, but they could hear the sound of someone entering the room, and a rasping, sick-sounding cough. The view changed in a flash, and Harry heard Hermione gasp behind him. Professor McGonagall's hand went to her throat. There, flanked and supported by two Dementors, stood Professor Remus Lupin. As they watched, he lifted his head and glared at them - or rather at Voldemort, because it was from his point of view that they were seeing their former teacher.  
  
"Ah, Professor Lupin," said Voldemort. "I hope my friends ..." He indicated the Dementors. ". have been keeping you well."  
  
Professor Lupin replied with a kind of low grunt. Voldemort must have given some sort of sign, because the Dementors released Lupin and withdrew from view.  
  
"You will no doubt be pleased to hear," Voldemort was saying, "that I am at this moment recording our little conversation for a young friend of yours."  
  
Lupin, who had watched the Dementors leave the room, looked up sharply.  
  
"Yes," said Voldemort, "you are no doubt guessing - correctly - that I am referring to Harry Potter."  
  
"What do you want with Harry?" asked Lupin hoarsely.  
  
"What do I want with Harry? Well, that remains to be seen. I will extend an invitation to him, and when he arrives we will find out what his future is to be."  
  
"He will not come," said Lupin.  
  
Voldemort's evil smile was audible in the tone of his voice. "I think he will. I think his father's old friends mean more to him than you think. Wouldn't you agree, Wormtail?"  
  
"Yes, Master," said Pettigrew.  
  
Lupin shook his head. "He will not be foolish enough to walk in here."  
  
"No? Not even if I promise that I will set you free if he does?"  
  
"A promise uttered by you is as worthless as leprechaun gold."  
  
Acting on a signal from Voldemort, Wormtail raised the silver hand that held his wand and cried "Crucio!"  
  
Remus Lupin stumbled backwards into the wall. He convulsed, his face contorted with pain. He crumpled to the floor and lay twisting and turning in pain. But he did not scream. In Dumbledore's office, Harry watched in horror. He knew what Professor Lupin was going through, he had experienced it himself and wondered how Lupin could keep sane enough in this condition to stop himself screaming. Professor McGonagall looked as though she wanted to turn her face away, but some invisible force was preventing her from doing so, instead transfixing her gaze to what she was seeing. Hermione was clutching Ron's arm so tightly her fingers were stopping the blood flow, but he didn't seem to notice or care.  
  
Inside the golden frame, Pettigrew lowered his wand. Lupin relaxed, just a second too soon.  
  
"Crucio!"  
  
This time, the suddenness of the pain that flooded his body forced a scream from Lupin's lips, a scream so terrible that it made Harry feel as though his head were about to burst. Hermione buried her face on Ron's shoulder and covered both ears with her hands.  
  
"Stop!" Harry shouted, jumping to his feet.  
  
As though in answer to his yell, the screaming did stop.  
  
"Of course," said Voldemort's voice, and Harry realised with a thrill of horror that the Dark Lord must be able to see and hear him, just as everyone in Dumbledore's office could see and hear everything in the room where Voldemort now was. "If you wish it. We will not harm him - if you come to us."  
  
"No!" a barely recognisable voice croaked. With obvious effort, Lupin pulled himself to his knees until he was looking straight at Harry through the golden frame that floated just inches from his face. "Don't give him what he wants, Harry." He gave a painful cough. "Whatever happens - stay where you are. Stay ..." his voice faltered and he swallowed hard, as though holding back a wave of sickness. "Stay safe," he said. Wormtail stepped forward and dragged him to his feet and from the room.  
  
"It's your choice, Harry Potter," Lord Voldemort said. "I suggest you decide rightly - and quickly. There will be a full moon tonight. We will see how our friend fares - in the morning."  
  
With that, the picture and the silver frame dissolved. Harry remained where he was, in the middle of the room, staring at the bookcase behind where the picture had floated a moment before.  
  
Very slowly he turned to Professor Dumbledore. The headmaster's expression was unreadable.  
  
"Minerva," he said steadily. "Go and fetch Severus."  
  
Professor McGonagall nodded tightly and swept out of the room.  
  
"Professor ..."  
  
"No, Harry," Dumbledore interrupted him. "Professor Lupin is right. You must stay where you are. There is nothing you can do for him."  
  
"But we can't just leave him there," Hermione said timidly. Her eyes looked damp, as did the left shoulder of Ron's robes.  
  
"I don't intend to," Dumbledore assured her. "But you three must keep out of danger. Harry, Professor Lupin was one of your father's closest friends. I knew your father well, and I know Remus Lupin well. Therefore, I know that he would rather die than have you put yourself in danger for him. You owe it to him to honour his wishes and, as he said, stay safe."  
  
Harry looked straight into the blue eyes behind Dumbledore's half-moon glasses.  
  
"And I owe it to my father to help him. The prospect of putting himself in danger for Professor Lupin wouldn't have stopped my father going after Voldemort, would it?"  
  
"Probably not," Dumbledore admitted. "But your father was not the one person in the world whom Voldemort wanted to kill - needed to kill. You will stay at Hogwarts, Harry."  
  
For the first time in his life, Harry stared back at Dumbledore with defiance in his green eyes.  
  
"No," he said. "I don't intend to give myself up to Voldemort - I know enough about him to realise he can't be trusted to keep his word. But I also don't intend to sit here and do nothing. I've faced Voldemort before and escaped ..."  
  
"But your mother's protection no longer guards you against him. Already, an encounter between you and the Dark Lord has led to the death of an innocent boy. Future encounters with Lord Voldemort can hardly fail to lead to more loss of life."  
  
Harry swallowed hard at the memory of Cedric Diggory's lifeless body, and how he had clutched it to him that day last year, after the final task of the Triwizard Tournament. But he remained determined.  
  
"Whatever you're going to do to help Professor Lupin, I'm coming along," he said. "Voldemort has Dementors around him. And I can conjure a powerful Patronus."  
  
Dumbledore sighed. "I see there is no convincing you. And locking you up somewhere would hardly do any good, I suppose. I suspect you know more of the ways in and out of this castle than I do," he added with a hint of the old familiar twinkle in his eyes.  
  
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Remus Lupin propped himself up against the wall. It was cold and damp. An inner voice from a distant-seeming past told him that it was not healthy to lean against damp walls, but when he tried to sit up without its support, he fell back against it. He looked up at the tiny, closely barred window of the cellar he was in. A pale ray of light shone through it onto the heavy door. He heard footsteps in the hall, and at once had to fight back the cold despair that began to clutch at his heart as he became aware that a Dementor had taken up its position out there. He tried reciting riddles to take his mind off it, but the Dementor was hungry for soul food, and probed with its mind to suck all happy thoughts out of him.  
  
"Tonight is the night of the full moon", Remus thought. It almost pleased him to think that he would be transforming tonight. The Dementors couldn't reach him while he was a werewolf.  
  
"Argh ..." A stabbing pain in his head. Damn. Pleasure was a happy thought, and the Dementor had snatched at it. It was delving further into his mind now, finding the memories of his days at Hogwarts with James, Sirius and Peter. Though made bitter by the sadness of later years, those memories were happy thoughts - some of the few happy thoughts Remus Lupin had ever known. The Dementor began sucking them out of him.  
  
"No you don't ..." He tried to resist the Dementor's probing, but it was no good. The memories of James's smiling face, of Sirius's pranks, of night- time strolls into Hogsmeade, gave way to memories of the most painful transformations he had ever undergone, the transformations of earlier years, biting, scratching, fighting to get out. And even before then, the miserable memories of turning back into a small boy in the morning, remembering the previous night, the blood, the screams of wounded animals ... The screams filled his mind until Remus lay curled up on the floor, blocking his ears with his hands.  
  
"No, no, make it stop. Stop, stop!"  
  
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Sirius Black stopped on a hilltop and rested his hand against a tree. The midday sun was streaming through its branches and birds sang. He rubbed his tired eyes and looked around. There was Selina Salazar, a few yards ahead, starting down the hill. They had been going all night and through the morning, yet she seemed as fresh as when they had started out. She still wore the hood pulled far forward, throwing her face into shadow. The great raven Rtarak, who had left them at some point to fly on a way ahead, returned to perch on her shoulder. She stood quite still and turned to look at it, and from where Sirius stood it looked almost as though she were talking to it. He walked down to join her.  
  
"Well?" he asked.  
  
"Rtarak has heard a rumour that dark forces are at work in a place called Little Hangleton. Apparently there is an old house there that has been empty for many years. The old gardener, Frank Bryce, was reported missing over a year ago."  
  
"Frank Bryce?"  
  
Selina Salazar's thin black eyebrow arched upwards. "You know the name?"  
  
"Yes. Harry mentioned seeing an old Muggle by that name in a dream - only it wasn't a dream."  
  
"Harry? Harry Potter?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I see. Well, it seems the villagers of Little Hangleton have noticed strange goings-on at the place lately. There's talk of hooded figures roaming the graveyard at night, of ghostly lights at upstairs windows and strange gatherings. None of the Muggles have dared to approach the house for years because of the mysterious deaths that occurred there a long time ago, but now they are becoming increasingly afraid. Something evil is at work there."  
  
"Voldemort?"  
  
"Very likely," Selina Salazar said calmly.  
  
"Then what are we waiting for? Let's just Apparate there ..." He reached for Remus's wand, but Selina Salazar's hand landed lightly on his wand arm before he had even got his own hand inside his robes. Her reflexes really were amazingly fast.  
  
"Wait," she said, turning pale blue eyes on his face. "Rtarak is wise, a prince of birds - the king of all British ravens."  
  
"That's fascinating," said Black coldly, though not without a mildly impressed glance at the raven on her shoulder. "But can we discuss the raven heraldry some other time? Right now, there are more pressing matters."  
  
"He hears much," she went on, unshaken. "And speaks to many others of his kind, some of whom see a lot of what goes on in the wizarding world."  
  
". mostly through being the pets of Dark wizards themselves, I don't doubt. Ravens aren't exactly trustworthy, in my opinion - no offence, but they're known for being used as messengers by Voldemort's followers."  
  
"So you think I am Voldemort's supporter?"  
  
"I don't see why I should think otherwise. You certainly don't seem in much of a hurry to reach this place where it seems likely he's holding Remus. And you keep a raven as a pet."  
  
"Pet?" Miss Salazar's lip twitched into a twisted smile that didn't suit her perfectly sculpted features. "One does not keep the King of Ravens as a pet. But one should heed his advice. Rtarak's messengers say that Voldemort has protected the house he is in and all the village surrounding it. It is no more possible to Apparate there than to do so in the grounds of Hogwarts - the difference being that the attempt alone will lead to immediate death."  
  
"How do I know that's not just another excuse to slow us down?"  
  
"Black," Selina Salazar said with a note of impatience. "If I were one of Voldemort's supporters, do you really think I would have shown myself to you on the train? Wouldn't I just have killed you there and then - the Muggle woman too, for that matter - and made off? Do you think the presence of one Muggle witness would have prevented me from eliminating one of the Dark Lord's most hunted enemies?"  
  
"Perhaps. What would I know of the reasons behind Voldemort's plans?" Sirius said, but he relaxed a little. "So? What do we do now?"  
  
"We continue towards Little Hangleton."  
  
Sirius took a deep breath and nodded. He'd been going over twenty-four hours without rest, but he felt that he would get no sleep anyway until he'd found Remus.  
  
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The Dementor had gone, at least for a while.  
  
"Voldemort knows there won't be much in the way of happy thoughts to suck out of me tonight", Remus thought grimly.  
  
He looked up at the small window. Already, the light was failing. He thought of Harry. If only there was some way he could reach the boy, impress upon him the need to stay in safety. He could bear anything Lord Voldemort and Wormtail did to him, if he knew Harry was safe ...  
  
But unfortunately, knowing James's son, he doubted whether his warnings would carry much weight. He hated to admit it, but Voldemort was right: Harry did care, very much, about his father's friends. He couldn't blame the boy for that, in fact it had always pleased him, up to now, to know that whatever misfortunes lay ahead, he had regained good friends he cared about, and to whom Remus Lupin was not just "the werewolf", but a person who mattered. The discovery of Wormtail's betrayal had given him back his friendship with Sirius Black, and somehow the loss of James Potter hadn't been so painful since he'd got to know his son.  
  
But now he almost regretted his friendship with Harry, because he knew that Harry would be just as hard to keep from risking his neck for him as James would have been. He was so like James, in many ways - except for his eyes. He had his mother's eyes.  
  
Remus blinked. He had been staring at the window unseeingly for several minutes, and only now noticed that a shadow was blocking out some of the light. He squinted upwards. It was a bird with glistening black feathers and a slim, elegant body. A raven. His heart beating a little faster, he pulled himself up off the ground and dragged a wooden crate over to the wall. Climbing onto it with shaking legs, he was able to haul himself up to the window and take a closer look at the bird. A ghostly grin spread across his face.  
  
"Hello," he whispered.  
  
The bird hopped nearer and studied him.  
  
"It's good to see you," Remus went on. "I was hoping you or one of your friends might hear about this place."  
  
The bird hopped nearer still.  
  
"No," said Remus. "Don't come in. It's too dangerous. I can't risk you being caught. Listen, I'm afraid I'm beyond aid in here, but there is something you can do for me, if you will. I want you to contact Albus Dumbledore. Tell him what's happened and make sure he stops Harry Potter from coming after me. I had the feeling Harry was in Dumbledore's office when he heard the news, but I can't be sure, and I've got to be sure that Dumbledore knows, and that Harry is kept safe. Will you do that for me?"  
  
The bird - most uncharacteristically - nodded. Remus breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
"One other thing," he said. "If you could get a message to Sirius ... Sirius Black. It's likely I won't get out of here alive, or sane ... Tell him his friendship has been one of the most important things in my life."  
  
The bird inclined its head questioningly.  
  
"Of course. I'm sorry, you don't know yet, do you? Sirius was innocent. He never betrayed James, it was ..."  
  
He broke off and turned to face the door. Someone was coming. He looked back to warn the raven, but it had already gone.  
  
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Sirius thumped the tree trunk with his fist. It was growing dark. The red disk of the sun was sinking behind the hillsides of Little Hangleton. This was taking too much time.  
  
"And where the hell has that Salazar got to?" he wondered.  
  
Just at that moment, he heard an almost inaudible footfall behind him and turned round.  
  
"Damn, how does she manage to move so quietly", he thought. "You could almost think her feet never touched the ground."  
  
"Well, Mr. Black," Selina Salazar said, straightening up her hood. "Rtarak's information seems to have been correct in every detail. Voldemort is here, and so is Remus Lupin."  
  
Sirius felt a rush of emotion. "You're sure? How - how is he?"  
  
"I'm afraid he suffers badly," she said.  
  
Sirius watched her closely. There was a different quality to her voice all of a sudden. She was quite obviously sad and worried. Strange. She hadn't shown her feelings this openly before. The young woman stepped past him, turned her face to the sky and made a strangely beautiful croaking noise exactly like the call of a raven. Almost at once, Rtarak flew in to land on her outstretched arm. She stroked his thick black plumage, then reached inside her robes for a sheet of parchment. Rtarak took it in his beak, and after a few more strange crowing noises from Selina Salazar took off into the growing night.  
  
Selina Salazar turned back to face Sirius, and he almost took a step back as he realised there was a queer half smile on her face and a new kind of light shone from her eyes.  
  
"You look as though you could do with some rest," she said.  
  
Sirius stared. "Rest? We don't have time for rest."  
  
"You will need to get your strength back before we approach Lord Voldemort," she said kindly. "And there is nothing more we can do tonight."  
  
She gazed up at the sky, where the setting sun was almost gone and the pale silver disk of the moon seemed to be growing brighter every moment.  
  
"There is a full moon, and Remus has not taken his daily dose of Wolfsbane Potion."  
  
"You know about that?" Sirius said, surprised.  
  
"Of course. He told me that a long time ago. He tells me many things. Unfortunately, though, I have been out of the country for most of the past two years, so he never got around to telling me you were innocent. It might have saved us both a lot of trouble if he had," she said softly, and smiled.  
  
"But - now you do know? How?"  
  
"Birds and trees hear much that no human ear notices," she replied. "I will not tell you how I know, for now. It is enough that I do know. So - how about passing the time with a few anecdotes form your school days? From what Remus has told me in the past, I gather you rather turned things upside down at Hogwarts. He also said your friendship had been one of the most important things in his life."  
  
Sirius stared at her. That a change so great could take place in a person in such a short space of time ...  
  
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Remus Lupin gasped for air. This was pain. It was pain as vicious as what he had felt under the Cruciatus Curse. Searing pain. The skin on his hands was puckering, his fingers were shaping into claws. He passed a hand over his sweating face.  
  
"Ahhh!"  
  
The claws cut his skin. The pain was unbearable, but still he could barely suppress the urge to scratch his face again. He tried to hold one arm steady with the other hand, but only succeeded in ripping a large, bloody gash through the sleeve of his robes. He wrapped his arms around his body as he tumbled to the floor, and scratched his back in agony. He tried to scream again, but it came out as a strangled howl. One large paw brushed at the wooden crate on the floor beside him and shattered it to pieces.  
  
The werewolf reared, hackles rising, baring its teeth and snapping wildly at the few battered items of furniture stored in this cell. Somewhere at the back of its mind, another presence was struggling against the monster's brutality, trying but failing to attract its attention, helpless against the murderous urges of the beast as it lashed out and bit at anything within reach, scratching its own body in fury until it was covered in cuts.  
  
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Out on the cemetery of Little Hangleton, a small group of people stood bathed in ghostly moonlight. Harry Potter was standing a little way away from the others.  
  
"Are you okay?" Hermione Granger's voice whispered suddenly beside him.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Eerie, this place, isn't it?" said Ron.  
  
Harry nodded tightly. Then he added. "I've been here before."  
  
"Here?" Hermione exclaimed.  
  
"Yes. Look over here." He led them to a gravestone shadowed by a large tree.  
  
"Tom Riddle," Ron read out, then glanced nervously at Harry. "Blimey, d'you mean to say this is where - where ..."  
  
"Yes, I believe we are standing on the very spot where Cedric Diggory died a year ago."  
  
They all jumped a few inches. None of them had heard Professor Dumbledore approach.  
  
"Harry ..." Hermione started towards him, but Harry waved her away.  
  
"Not now. There are other things to think of now."  
  
"Like how do we find Professor Lupin? I mean, are we sure he's round here some."  
  
Ron's question was interrupted by the sound of a ferocious howl not very far off. Hermione shivered.  
  
"I think that was your answer."  
  
Snape strode up to them, his cloak billowing out behind him. "Headmaster - I think it's time we made a move. The building up there on the hill is the Riddle house, the house of the Dark Lord's father. It seems likely that this is where he is hiding, and it seems a waste of time to wait much longer out here."  
  
"We will have to wait a little while, Severus," Dumbledore replied calmly. "It would be unwise, I think, to try and rescue Remus Lupin tonight. He would probably be more likely to attack us."  
  
Snape sneered. "I would be more than happy to ensure that he does not harm our young students, Headmaster. If it became necessary, I would not hesitate to ..."  
  
"I'm sure you would be only to eager to prove your worth by killing a werewolf, but I will not have it," said Dumbledore with a fierce glint in his eye. "We will wait until morning."  
  
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Morning. Sirius Black could hear a bird chirping merrily in a tree nearby. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. He had not meant to fall asleep - Selina Salazar might suddenly have begun trusting him, but he still had no reason to trust her - but he had not been able to help himself. After he had told her as little as possible about the escapades of his school days, she had started reciting stories she said her mother had told her when she was a child.  
  
They were stories of golden lands filled with peace and happiness, of people who lived at one with nature, who cherished the trees and flowers of the woods as living things, just as true and vital to the continuation of a harmonious existence on this planet as the birds and beasts that dwelt there. And finally tiredness had overcome his anxiety, and Sirius Black had dropped off into a dreamless sleep.  
  
But now he was awake again, and eager to go. The sun had not yet fully risen and the pale disk of the full moon still hung in the sky, seemingly reluctant to leave on what promised to be a bright and friendly day for all those who did not have Sirius's worries.  
  
He got up and straightened his robes, looking around for his travelling companion. He found her sitting a little way down the hill, where she could watch the village wildlife coming awake. She must have excellent hearing, because she turned to face Sirius even before he had taken three steps in her direction.  
  
"Good morning," she said. "You must have had a good night, you look much more rested today."  
  
"No, I don't," he scowled, thinking of his tangled black hair and the bristles that were growing in his face. But it was true that he had slept well - for once without reliving painful memories of James and Lily, of Wormtail's betrayal and his own imprisonment in Azkaban.  
  
Selina Salazar merely smiled. "Are you ready to go, Mr. Black?"  
  
"Ready and impatient." He still found it hard to get used to this new politeness of hers. Selina Salazar got to her feet and led the way down the hill.  
  
"We'll go round the back of the house. I doubt we'll be lucky enough to be able to get Remus out without being noticed, but there's no harm in trying."  
  
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A ray of sunlight shone on Remus Lupin's pale face. He blinked against the sudden brightness and lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. He felt awful. Last night - last night had been bad. He couldn't remember much about it, but he remembered pain. Pain - his right arm and back were hurting, and there was a dry, crusted feeling on his cheek. He lifted his left hand and touched his face. Sure enough, there was a thick crust of blood there.  
  
Of course, he had scratched himself last night when he had transformed. The transformation had been painful. That was because he hadn't had his Wolfsbane Potion, because They had not given him any. They. Who were They and where was he?  
  
He glanced back up at the barred window, and remembered. Pettigrew. The train. Pettigrew had boarded the train with the Dementors, had brought him here and handed him over to Lord Voldemort. And Lord Voldemort had sent a letter to James's son, Harry, a letter claiming that he, Remus Lupin, would be allowed to walk free if Harry surrendered to the Dark Lord. That must never happen. Remus hoped that the message he had given the raven last night would reach Dumbledore. But even if it did - would Dumbledore go by his wishes? Dumbledore was a good man, a wise man, a man to whose judgement many deferred - but Dumbledore was also inclined to give people chances who asked for them, even if it meant letting them endanger their own lives. Would Dumbledore let Harry take the chance of facing Voldemort again, in spite of Remus's warning?  
  
Remus feared that he might. But in that case, what was to be done? Dumbledore might believe in letting people take risks, but Remus couldn't let Harry do that. How to prevent it, though? The only thing he could see that would stop Harry coming here to rescue him was if it were certain that there was no hope of rescue - and that meant death. But how could he arrange his own death, here, in this cellar, without tools of any kind, without even a wand - and make sure Harry knew about it ...  
  
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Sirius Black and Selina Salazar were among the trees on the edge of the Riddle estate. Sirius was ready to rush across the lawns to the house and burst in through the front door, but Selina placed a restraining hand on his arm.  
  
"There," she whispered, nodding.  
  
Sirius looked in the direction she was indicating and froze. There were at least half a dozen Dementors patrolling the opposite end of the gardens, and Dementors could sense a human presence approaching them like the sensitive nose of a dog would pick up the scent of a skunk.  
  
Selina Salazar slid her hand inside her robes and took out her wand.  
  
"Are you any good at Patronus Charms?" she asked.  
  
Sirius shook his head. "Not very. I've not had much practice, but I do remember that the last time I tried to summon a Patronus against one Dementor, it was a very weak one."  
  
Selina looked surprised. "And yet you're the only person ever to have escaped from Azkaban, where you were surrounded by hundreds of them ..."  
  
"Yes. Well," said Sirius awkwardly, "I don't have any happy thoughts to concentrate on right now that would help me summon a Patronus."  
  
"Perhaps you should try a new approach. Something along the lines of 'If this doesn't work, I'm done for'." Selina smiled wryly.  
  
"Bad joke," said Black. "So - what's your plan?"  
  
"Give me Remus's wand."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You can take mine instead."  
  
"Where's the point in that?" Sirius hissed.  
  
"I'm going to take Remus his wand," she said simply. "I never knew anyone who could summon as powerful a Patronus as easily as Remus."  
  
"Oh, it's that simple, is it?" Sirius said sarcastically. "Just walk in and hand him his wand ..."  
  
"Not walk," said Selina mysteriously. "Fly."  
  
She pressed her wand into Sirius's hand. He was so bewildered by her answer that he took it and gave her Remus's without thinking. No sooner had she taken it from him than she flashed a brief smile at him and vanished into the bushes, running so lightly and quickly that she was gone before he noticed.  
  
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On the opposite side of the grounds, Harry, Ron and Hermione ducked down among the bushes.  
  
"Keep out of the gardens, that's what Professor Dumbledore said," Hermione hissed at them both.  
  
"Shut up, can't you?" Ron whispered back. "They'll hear you."  
  
He pointed towards the group of Dementors moving across the lawn. Hermione frowned, then looked across at Harry.  
  
"You okay?"  
  
He nodded. In fact, he was far from okay, and the presence of the Dementors made him realise that perhaps Professor Lupin's idea had been better - to stay at Hogwarts. But the knowledge that he could conjure a powerful Patronus when the need arose, and the thought of what would happen if they didn't reach his former teacher soon, helped keep the dark and horrible memories at bay, though not completely. All the time, he could hear an echo of his mother's voice screaming at the back of his mind. And it was cold. Harry shook himself. It didn't do to dwell on his parents' death, not now.  
  
"Come," he whispered, crawling through the bushes towards the other end of the house, away from the hooded Dementors.  
  
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Remus Lupin leaned back against the wall, breathing heavily. It was no use, the wooden door of the cellar was reinforced with iron bars. There was no getting out that way - even if he had been feeling stronger physically, he could never hope to budge it. Besides, Voldemort had probably put a spell on it.  
  
Holding his wounded right arm with his left, he dragged himself over to the shattered remains of an upturned crate and surveyed the scene. Bits of wood and tattered, blood-stained cloth lay scattered around. But nothing that would serve as a means of escape from this prison, in whatever way.  
  
There was the sound of wings beating behind him. He looked up, and his heart gave a leap. The raven was back. It hopped forward and squeezed through in between the bars. Then it spread its wings and flew down to land on the crate beside him. Remus grinned weakly. Whatever magical guards Voldemort had erected around the house had clearly been meant to keep out witches and wizards, but he hadn't thought of keeping the wildlife out - strange, really, considering his closest servant was an Animagus, and capable of transforming at will into a rat. He looked more closely at the bird, and discovered that it was holding something in its clawed feet. His mouth dropped open.  
  
"My wand!" he exclaimed. "Where did you get it?"  
  
The bird did not answer, but let him take the wand and looked up at him out of unblinking black eyes.  
  
"Thank you," Remus said, hiding it in his tattered robes. "I shall use this well. If all else fails, I'll think of some spell to kill myself ..."  
  
The bird hopped onto his uninjured left arm in what seemed like an indignant manner and pecked him hard. Remus winced.  
  
"I said, 'If all else fails'. I'm not exactly keen to die just yet," he explained. "But if it does become necessary, if I begin to feel myself weakening ..."  
  
He swayed a little on his precarious seat. Weakening! How much weaker could he get?  
  
"Keep watching," he told the raven. "And in the meantime, make sure you let Harry know. Either I'll use my wand to escape, or I'll use it to kill myself. Either way, it would be useless for him to come risking his life."  
  
The bird ruffled its feathers angrily and stretched so high it actually looked as though it had grown. Footsteps echoed along the hall, and Remus felt a familiar coldness flooding him.  
  
"Go," he whispered to the raven.  
  
The bird sank back to its normal height and took off, squeezed through the window and was gone.  
  
A light flashed outside in the hallway, and a creaking and scraping sound announced the opening of the door. Wormtail glanced suspiciously around the room, taking in the blood and mess, and the hunched and injured figure on the crate in front of him. He grinned.  
  
"Had a bit of a rough night, Remus?"  
  
Remus Lupin didn't answer. Wormtail waved his silver hand, and two Dementors glided into the room to drag Remus to his feet. Moments later, he found himself back in the room he had been in yesterday, where Voldemort had 'recorded' his torture for Harry to see. He suspected something similar was planned now. The room was brightly lit. Sunlight streamed in through the open french windows, and the overgrown garden outside might have looked quite tranquil, had it not been for the Dementors that stood on guard there. It was unusual for them to be out in such broad daylight, but then Voldemort was expecting 'visitors'.  
  
The two Dementors sat Remus on a wooden chair and withdrew to the back of the room.  
  
"Good morning, Wormtail," Voldemort said, coming into the room through the other door. "Ah, and here is our werewolf. In a bit of a mess today, aren't we?"  
  
Remus Lupin was sorely tempted to answer with a cutting remark, but thought better of it. It was wiser not to provoke the Dark Lord, not when you were surrounded by creatures that would be only too happy to suck your soul out through your mouth.  
  
Voldemort stopped right in front of him.  
  
"Time to send another note to our friend Mr. Potter, I think."  
  
"Why?" The question was out before Remus could stop it.  
  
"Why?" Voldemort queried. "So that he can see how we are treating you. So that he will hurry over to see you."  
  
"Why like this? Why not just kidnap him as you did me?"  
  
Voldemort laughed. "Firstly, because unfortunately for both of us, Mr. Harry Potter is not as easy to 'kidnap' as you are. He is protected, day and night, during and outside the school year. Secondly - I much prefer to have him come and deliver himself to me personally."  
  
"Walk into my parlour, said the spider to the fly," Remus Lupin quoted.  
  
"A fitting analogy. Except that I have always much preferred snakes to spiders. Which reminds me .... Wormtail!"  
  
"Yes, Master?"  
  
"Where is Nagini?"  
  
Wormtail looked around nervously. "I do not know, Master."  
  
Voldemort frowned angrily at him, then marched to the door and called something - except he was not speaking normal words, but making strange hissing noises. Almost at once, a large diamond-patterned snake slithered through the door and up the arm he held out to it. Voldemort returned with the snake.  
  
"Meet Nagini," he said, "my most loyal servant. Apart, as I am constantly reminded," he added, seeing Wormtail about to protest, "from your old friend Wormtail."  
  
"He's no friend of mine," Remus spat.  
  
Voldemort drew himself up. "Enough! You are in a rebellious mood this morning, I see. But I am not in the mood to tolerate it. You will submit to my will."  
  
He held the snake up close to Lupin's face.  
  
"Nagini is hungry. She has not been fed today. How would you like to be her breakfast? Oh, I would not let her devour you completely. I still need you in order to complete my plan - for now. But she needs very little for her breakfast. As small a part as your wand arm would do for now."  
  
Remus felt sick, but he looked up into those slit-like eyes defiantly. "I hope she chokes on it."  
  
"So, threats do not impress you? Never mind. I have other ways of getting my own way. You will grovel before me. Imperio!"  
  
"Bow", said a voice inside Remus Lupin's head. "Kneel. Submit."  
  
"After all, why not?" he thought. "It's so much easier." He felt light, soaring above the world, the pain was gone, the worry, the concern for others. It was a wonderful feeling.  
  
"Bend to my will!"  
  
"No, damn it, why should I?" Now where had that thought come from? Why protest, why not just let others do the deciding, the controlling ... "Controlling? Do you want to be played with like a puppet?"  
  
"No!" Remus heard himself shout. "I'll die before I serve you!"  
  
Voldemort lowered his wand a fraction. "You have a strong will. Very well, you will not serve me. But that does not mean you will not serve my purpose. I can still break your body and your mind, if not your will. Crucio!"  
  
The pain erupted again, and Remus Lupin screamed. Pain, pain ... after last night, he had almost thought he was getting used to it, that pain could no longer touch him. But it did, and it was incredible, the worst kind of torture imaginable, slicing, cutting, scratching, burning ... He knew that he should not be giving in like this, that he should be fighting the source of this pain, at least keeping his mouth shut, robbing Voldemort of the satisfaction to hear him screaming. But the agony was too great, it was all there was, it was his world, a world that was red as blood and hot as hell, unbearable ...  
  
Then something happened. Through the throbbing of his veins, Remus Lupin felt that something was going on. There was a loud yell and something heavy fell to the floor beside him.  
  
He forced himself to open his eyes.  
  
For a split second, Voldemort seemed to shiver and flicker. He was back on his feet in an instant, but so was the thing that had hurled itself at him. Bigger than the biggest wolf and blacker than pitch, the dog bared its lips and sprang again, sinking its teeth long and hard into the Dark Lord's arm. Wormtail screeched and bolted for the door, but he collided with two people who were running in from the garden.  
  
"Expelliarmus!" Hermione and Ron yelled together before he was able to recover from the shock.  
  
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Harry was out in the garden. Three of the Dementors, sensing the arrival of the Hogwarts students, were quickly sweeping his way.  
  
"Expecto Patronum!"  
  
A white stag sprang from the end of Harry's wand and charged at the Dementors.  
  
Then he heard Ron's shout.  
  
"Bloody hell! Harry, there's two more in here!"  
  
Panting, Harry swung in through the door while his Patronus charged the half dozen Dementors out in the garden. He levelled his wand to face the two inside the room, but a familiar voice was quicker than his. Remus Lupin lay propped up on one arm, and though his wand hand was trembling with pain and his voice sounded almost impossibly weak, a cloud-like shape floated towards the two Dementors inside the room. It didn't drive them off as Harry's Patronus had done, but it kept them at bay just long enough for the door to burst open behind them, and Dumbledore and Snape to stride into the room and finish them off.  
  
Meanwhile, the black dog was preparing for another leap at Lord Voldemort, but he had his wand ready this time. How and why Harry never knew, but something made Voldemort stop halfway through chanting his death spell, and then the room was suddenly filled with a crowing and shrieking and flapping that made him want to stuff his fingers in his ears and run right back outside again. From somewhere among the chaos that followed, a young woman dressed all in black suddenly seemed to materialise out of thin air, and while Dumbledore and Snape charged forward towards Lord Voldemort, Harry felt her hand on his back, and felt Ron and Hermione being pushed with him out of the way of any spells that might be cast.  
  
The young woman stood with them against the wall. The strangest scene was taking place in this old, long abandoned place. A swarm of ravens, rooks and crows was fiercely and relentlessly attacking the Dark Lord, preventing him from moving a step in any direction. Wormtail, meanwhile, had bolted out of the french windows before turning into a rat and scurrying off into the woods. The black dog was still snapping at every part of Voldemort that seemed vulnerable, and Dumbledore and Snape had taken up positions at opposite ends of the room.  
  
"Selina!" Dumbledore called.  
  
The young woman beside Harry stepped forward and turned her face up towards the largest of the birds, a raven, who was hovering around the edge of the fight, and crowed at him. Rtarak repeated her crow, and all the birds immediately ceased their attack and flew with him back to the trees.  
  
Lord Voldemort's robes were torn in several places and Nagini lay twitching and bleeding on the floor, but he was not willing to be beaten.  
  
"Severus Snape!" he exclaimed, half amused. "Who would have thought that we would meet again so soon? Though I had hoped we would, eventually." He gave a sneering smile. "It's not too late, Severus. You can still turn back. You can still join me."  
  
"When I left you, I left you for good," Snape answered coldly.  
  
"Yes." Voldemort nodded. "I sensed that. I suppose you serve this old fool now."  
  
He glanced triumphantly at Dumbledore, but there was still a hint of that old fear that he was rumoured to have of his former Transfiguration teacher.  
  
"It's good to see you again. Pity I can't stay."  
  
"We will catch up with you someday, Tom Riddle," Dumbledore said.  
  
Voldemort drew himself up angrily, and a dangerous green glow surrounded him. "That was my father's name. It is not mine."  
  
"It is, and it will come back to haunt you one day."  
  
"And I will come back to haunt you one day," said Voldemort. And with that, he seemed to burst into flame and disappear.  
  
"You let him go!" It was Sirius Black, standing on the spot where the black dog had just vanished.  
  
"We could not have stopped him," Dumbledore said mildly. "He was never here."  
  
"What?"  
  
"It was - a projection. He knew Harry would not come alone. There was a risk that his plan would fail."  
  
"It was an awfully powerful projection." Selina Salazar had knelt next to the sprawled figure of Remus Lupin. "Right down to the spells. You can't tell me they were projected."  
  
"In a way. Voldemort worked them through the projection."  
  
Selina shook her head in disbelief and turned her attention back to the man on the floor beside her.  
  
"How is he?" said Hermione, crouching down with her. Harry, Ron, Sirius and Dumbledore moved closer. Snape stayed scowling in the background.  
  
"He'll be all right, won't he?" Harry asked.  
  
Selina didn't answer, but touched Lupin's shoulder lightly.  
  
"Remus?" she whispered softly.  
  
He stirred very slightly, then winced with pain. His face was pale as death.  
  
"We can't move him like this," Dumbledore said quietly.  
  
Selina raised her hands and slowly lowered the voluminous hood of her robes. Her long hair fell freely out from under it like a cascade of black waves. She tossed it over her shoulder, and Sirius, watching in fascination, had a glimpse of the strangely pointed ears that she had concealed beneath her hood since the moment he had met her.  
  
Selina turned to Hermione. "You'll have to help me. Hold his head."  
  
Hermione nodded and moved round. Selina laid Professor Lupin's head on Hermione's lap and showed her how to hold him.  
  
"Sirius ...," Selina called.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"His shoulders."  
  
Sirius knelt next to Hermione and held Remus's shoulders.  
  
"Try to make sure he moves as little as possible," Selina advised.  
  
She was now holding her hands out on either side of Remus's face. She closed her eyes and touched him. Almost at once, her back seemed to stiffen as though she felt a sudden jolt of pain, but she kept her hands touching his face, whispering so softly now that no one could hear what she was saying.  
  
Remus began twitching and writhing. Hermione and Sirius held him as gently and tightly as they could. At last, some of the pallor seemed to leave Remus Lupin's face, he relaxed, and Selina sat back on her heels. Her eyes remained closed for a moment longer, then she opened them and looked down at the wounded man. The ivory skin of her own face looked lighter and more intangible than ever, but she smiled.  
  
"You can move him now, Professor," she said.  
  
Getting slowly to her feet, she untied the silk cord around her waist and removed her satin robe to reveal a long black dress of a material that looked like silk.  
  
"Cover him with this."  
  
Dumbledore did as she suggested, and used a charm to Levitate the unconscious man.  
  
"Time to go home," he said softly.  
  
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EPILOGUE  
  
Cynthia Martin sat at the breakfast table staring down at the letter she had just written. She had read and re-read it, and still she wasn't sure if it was okay.  
  
"Write to him, if you haven't got his phone number," Mike had said yesterday. "Ask him to come and see us some time."  
  
Then he had smiled affectionately at her. "He saved the two people who are most precious to me. He deserves at least to be fed like a king."  
  
Cynthia had smiled back at her husband and said, "All right, I'll write tomorrow."  
  
But it wasn't that easy. How did you write to a man you had met only once, and who had on that occasion not only been excessively kind to little Timmy, but rescued them both from that train crash as well? She had tried all the forms of "Thank you, Professor Lupin, for saving our lives," and dismissed them all as either too melodramatic or too impersonal. So in the end she had settled for  
  
"Dear Professor Lupin, My husband and I were wondering if you'd like to come and visit us for dinner one evening, would Saturday suit you," which seemed hardly appropriate, given the circumstances.  
  
But it was the best she could do. So she slipped it into an envelope, stuck a stamp on and addressed it, as that kind Mr. Weasley - an employee of the railway company, if she remembered correctly, though she remembered so little about the accident - had said, to "Professor Remus Lupin, to be called for at the Cobblington post office". She hoped it would reach him there. She hoped he was all right. And she wondered, vaguely, why she hoped that. Out in the garden, Mike was playing with Timmy. Cynthia walked over to the window and looked out. Mike looked up and waved, and she smiled lovingly at him. She would go out and join them, maybe that would clear her head a little.  
  
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Professor Lupin stood at a window in the shade of the castle and watched a group of excited third years cross the grounds for a weekend in Hogsmeade. He sighed. It was good to be back at Hogwarts, even if he wasn't teaching. Even the Whomping Willow didn't seem so depressing in this sunshine. He heard a quiet footfall behind him and turned. Selina Salazar stood bathed in the thin sliver of sunlight that shone through the window behind him. She was smiling.  
  
"You're off then?" Remus said.  
  
"Yes. Now that I know all that's been happening here in England while I was away, there's a lot I must do. Rtarak will carry messages to the kings of birds in other countries, and I must visit my mother, and - certain other people."  
  
Remus nodded. Selina had worked hard and long to establish a network of spies throughout the country, and they had spent many years watching and waiting in case the Dark Lord should rise again. He had never known all their names. It was safer that way, as they had agreed a long time ago.  
  
"Will you be all right?" she asked.  
  
"I'll be fine," he assured her.  
  
Selina studied his face for a moment, and seemed satisfied with what she saw. He was certainly looking a lot better now that the effects of the transformation and Voldemort's torture had worn off - not exactly well, but better. It would be a while before he was completely well, if he could ever be called that.  
  
"Well ... goodbye," Selina said.  
  
He saw her hesitation - it was her background, he knew, that made her shy away from this kind of thing - and stepped towards her. He took Selina in his arms, and for a few seconds felt her warm breath against his neck. Then she drew back and smiled.  
  
"Take care, Remus."  
  
"And you."  
  
She turned and walked away along the hall without looking back. Remus turned back to the window. Selina was a dear. She was, in many ways, a very strong individual, capable of much more than the healing charm she had performed on him, absorbing some of his injury to lessen his pain - more than any ordinary witch or wizard could do. But in some ways she was very vulnerable. She needed looking after. Well, until the right person came along, he would just have to keep worrying about her. He looked down and saw her leave the castle by a side door. And then he saw another figure down there. He watched more closely, unable to help himself. He'd recognise that walk anywhere ... It was Sirius.  
  
Selina stopped to talk to him. Sirius laughed. There was a pause, then Selina held out her hand, and after another brief interval Sirius took it, and held it for a moment before Selina turned to go. She vanished out of sight, but Sirius still stood watching. Then he raised his arm and waved before turning and walking back towards the castle.  
  
Remus smiled. Yes, it was good to be back at Hogwarts for a break ... even if the next storm could not be far away.  
  
THE END 


End file.
